


Names - a CATS oneshot

by Jameson9101322



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-04 21:52:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18821470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jameson9101322/pseuds/Jameson9101322
Summary: Originally posted March 2008Cats have three different names. Which they answer to is... circumstantial





	Names - a CATS oneshot

**Author's Note:**

> (in one of the unpublished poems it says that all cats are Jellicle cats and all dogs are pollicle dogs, but Deuteronomy says there's different kinds of both so here we are)

The sun warmed the inside windowsill, bathing the shelf until it was heavenly. A cat’s paradise. The silver tabby enjoyed it thoroughly. 

Peering out this window, he could see the patch of grass that was his owner’s tiny garden. Just beyond it was a quaint but useless fence and beyond that the street. He couldn’t see the junkyard from there, but perhaps it was just as well. Separate names sometimes meant different lives. He was allowed a moment to himself every now and then. He couldn’t be Munkustrap all the time. 

Indoors he was James, the adopted pet of a young working woman. She’d spotted him puttering about one day and gone about the human ritual of the dish of cream and tentative reach. The tabby decided to accept and allowed the progressive steps to continue, becoming friend, then companion until she finally gave him a name. In practicality it was unwise for a cat of his stature to become a pet shut away from the clan he was supposed to be protecting. But every step of this was in his control. She would be home soon to put him out, not knowing that the half an hour it took for her to settle in equaled the total amount of time he’d spent in her flat all day. He broke concentration to check the clock on the wall. She was late. No worries, he’d bask some more. It was warm.

A stray mutt wandered up the street. It stopped at his fence and watched him with sharp interest, waiting for him to move. 

The cat noted the dog coolly and lowered his head to make it obvious. The dog gave out a bark, summoning three or four echoing barks from flats on either side of the street. James mused. Dogs were so predictable.

The mutt sniffed the air, then shot the unseen dogs an annoyed glance and barked again, its brown eyes fixing James with more than just the easily-amused dog interest. The tabby cocked his head and eased up. The dog barked again, directing the cat's attention to the front door. James frowned at his beckoning. Could it be this stray knew who he was? 

It was worth investigating. James bounded down from the sunbath and down the cellar stairs, into a gap in the duct work and along the eaves to the back corner where the hinge on the storm window was loose. He emerged in the heather beneath his basking window. The dog on the other side of the fence smelled him there, and the laser stare found him half a second after. The two creatures stared at each other for a full minute. The unwelcome barks persisted along the street.

The dog spoke, his voice a low gruff. All dogs shared a certain gravelly note that ranged in severity depending on the region. At the first word, James relaxed. 

This dog was a Jellicle. 

“I have word of your prodigal.” The dog said. “You are Munkustrap?”

“Yes.” He replied but elected to remain hidden beneath the leaves. “Macavity should know better than to impede in dog territory. What is this news?”

“I cannot explain,” he replied. “You will hear it from the Alpha.”

Munkustrap backed deeper into the heather. “I will hear it now.”

“Please, do not be difficult.” The dog's globular eyes narrowed. “Follow.”

“I have no intention of following you into your Alley and becoming a toy for a pack of stray dogs. You are being civil, yes, but understand the level of danger I face if I do as you say.”

“I understand.” The dog said, but his voice held no compassion. “Follow.” 

He headed down the street, pausing at the corner to glance backward. Waiting for the feline. A sixth-sensory chill iced Munkustrap's his back. 

He wished his senses were keener. Others in his tribe had instincts of near psychic proportions. He would have appreciated a little more certainty. Clarity as to whether or not his misgiving meant for him to stay or go. He padded along underbrush at edge of the fence, watching the dog and flaring his whiskers with thoughts of Macavity. Threats to the tribe were not to be ignored. 

The city bus arrived at the corner. A young woman with straight brown hair descended the vehicle with clacking heels. She drew the gate open and walked past his hiding place on her way into the flat. 

“James? Here, kitty kitty!”

Munkustrap closed his eyes. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to run away forever. She was a lovely and respectable woman but he had three names and she only owned one. The tabby slinked through the slats in the fence as smoothly as a soft breeze and followed the dog northward into the gathering dusk.


End file.
